


C'mon (and kiss me): A 5x fic

by anecdotalist



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: 5x Fic, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, M/M, Romeo and Juliet References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5313077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anecdotalist/pseuds/anecdotalist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5x (in 5 AUs) in which Zayn said "C'mon then" to Liam and then kissed him.</p><p>Featuring: goalie!Liam and music-geek!Zayn; spin-the-bottle!Ziam; model!Zayn and photographer!Liam; 007!Liam and Q!Zayn; and Romeo-and-Juliet!Ziam</p>
            </blockquote>





	C'mon (and kiss me): A 5x fic

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this back in March, thinking that a 5x fic would be quick to write. *facepalm*
> 
> The model and photographer one was inspired by [this post](http://likealeafonthewind.tumblr.com/post/103897521413/ziamthekings-sashayed-yelchin-liam) and the 00q fusion and Romeo and Juliet ones were inspired by conversations I had with some friends.
> 
> This is not beta'd so sorry for any mistakes. I may periodically come back and make minor edits. Any major changes will be noted here or in the story summary.
> 
> Enjoy!

**1\. High school AU**

Zayn plunks his tray of school lunch (mystery meatloaf, runny mashed potatoes, wilted carrots, and a tiny carton of milk) down next to Louis' and squeezes in among the crowd of theater geeks, music nerds, and general outcasts that rule over this tiny back corner of the cafeteria every day.

"What's up bro?" Ollie greets him from his seat across from Louis. He raises his fist and Zayn bumps it with his own.

"Nothin', bruh. Math's kickin' my arse."

Ollie nods in commiseration. "Who needs that shit, anyway?"

A burst of laughter and hoots draw his attention across the room, where the school's football team are sat around two long tables that they habitually push together. They are a loud, rowdy bunch, always cracking jokes and laughing like they own the place.

Zayn pulls his lips back in a sneer. "What's got them all excited now?"

"Not bad, Zaynie," Louis says with a clap to his shoulder. He turns Zayn to face him and frowns critically. "I give it a seven. You nearly managed to pull off disdain instead of 'Liam Payne is so hot I wish he'd do me on the table right now.'" Then he cooes. "Have you been practicing?"

Zayn scowls but then deflates a second later. "Yes," he mumbles. He isn't proud of it but the Winter Formal is two weeks away and he needs to perfect his I-don't-give-a-damn look because fuck if he isn't going to go to the dance just to lurk in the shadows and glare at every girl who dares to dance with Liam star-goalie-king-of-abs-and-biceps-with-a-thousand-watt-smile-and-a-heart-of-gold Payne. So maybe he has a crush on him. But it's a small one. It isn't like every time Liam laughs, he melts into a puddle of goo. Or like the crinkles by his warm chocolate brown eyes never fail to make his heart clench. Or like his utter obliviousness to Zayn's existence makes him wail into a pillow in Louis' bedroom about the unfairness of life on a weekly basis.

"We'll make a theater geek out of you yet!" Louis declares.

"Fuck off, Tommo. As if I'm going to ever get on stage without my guitar."

"Um, excuse me, Zayn?" a soft voice speaks up behind him.

Zayn's heart starts racing. He _knows_ that voice, knows it better than his own, almost, even though that voice has never said his name out loud. He stares at Louis with wide eyes, sure that his look reflects the panic that's swallowing him up. But Louis, the bastard, is no help at all. His eyes flick up, widen in surprise, and then he squeezes Zayn's shoulder and gives him a gentle push.

Zayn slowly - so, so slowly - turns around. He feels like this is simultaneously the best and worst moment of his life and he doesn't know whether he should try to prolong it or pray for it to end before his heart gives out. He turns and is faced with the white and red of their school's football jersey. He slowly trails his gaze upward, savoring how the jersey hangs off of broad shoulders and is tight enough to give a hint of the abs under it. He swallows. He doesn't care if he's coming across as too obvious. It wouldn't matter once he's dead. 

Because why else would Liam Payne come over here? Zayn must have done something or said something that offended him and he must be here to punch his lights out. Maybe he's caught on to all of Zayn's staring and he's creeped out. But in any case, it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be this close to the other boy and if Zayn's about to get hit, he thinks he might as well make it worthwhile. (Zayn's aware that he's maybe getting a little hysterical but he doesn't know how to _cope_ with this situation. Never did he think he would actually hold a conversation with Liam, never mind in a public place like the school cafeteria.)

He spends a few seconds lingering on the birthmark on Liam's neck, wondering what it would be like to suck a bruise right on that spot. Then he moves up and takes in a pair of lush pink lips wet with saliva or chapstick, rounded cheeks, cute nose, and finally, those beautiful brown eyes that he'd been wanting to drown in since sixth form.

"Um," Liam says again, licking his lips. "So I just want say that, um, I was dared to, um, do this. Not that I wouldn't have done it anyway, only, um, you know..." he trails off and waves a hand vaguely like Zayn's really supposed to know. 

He doesn't.

His mind's stuck replaying the first sentence over and over. Dared? Dared to do what? Hit him? Mock him? Zayn twists back around and narrows his eyes at the jock table again where Niall Horan (captain) and Harry Styles (striker) are clutching each other looking almost giddy with anticipation. He feels a flash of anger. Do they think this is entertaining? He's never paid the jocks much mind. They're annoyingly loud, yes, but had seemed to be decent people. Clearly, he's been mistaken.

He turns back to Liam who's twisting his hands together and looking down. Nervous, then. Good. Not that Zayn stands a chance in an all-out fight either but he isn't going to just take a hit lying down. Literally or figuratively. Especially not for the amusement of a couple of idiots.

He stands up, leaning deliberately into Liam's space and making him look up in surprise. Liam doesn't back off, though, which leaves them in much closer proximity than Zayn had intended. "Well, come on then," he says, trying to put as much bravado into the words as he could. Liam still looks hesitant. "Come on!"

Liam's brows furrow and what, he doesn't know what Zayn's trying to do? Is he having second thoughts?

Zayn's heart is pounding like he'd just run a marathon, his vision has narrowed down to Liam's eyes and mouth, he's starting to feel antsy and restless and at this point he doesn't know whether he wants a fight or a snog. But fuck it. This is his one shot. He leans in quickly and crushes his mouth against Liam's. It isn't graceful or tender or gentle like how he'd imagined it countless times before. It's just fast and hard and one-sided and it's really more of a peck than a kiss.

When he pulls back, Liam looks shell-shocked.

"Okay, now you can hit me," Zayn says, thankful that his voice comes out steady even though his face feels flushed. Is the rest of the room staring at them? He feels like there are probably a hundred pairs of eyes watching them right now but that could just be his paranoia. He's too scared to check. And he doesn't want to look away from Liam, even if he is about to punch him.

But Liam frowns, looking even more bewildered than before. And how is it possible for him to be getting _cuter_ with every moment that passes? "Hit you?" Liam asks. "Why would I want to hit you?"

Now Zayn's confused. "You said you were dared to come over here and do something to me."

"Yeah..." Liam says, dragging out the word while he chews on his bottom lip and stuffs his hands in his pockets. There's a light blush dusting his cheeks now but he maintains eye contact with Zayn, looking like it takes every ounce of determination he has in him to do so. "I was dared to ask my crush out to the dance."

Zayn is shocked. He forgets that there's a cafeteria full of people around them and that Liam's friends and Zayn's friends at the very least are watching all this. Is Liam saying...? Is _he_ Liam's crush?

"So? Will you?" Liam asks and Zayn realizes that at least half a minute has passed with him staring (probably unattractively) at Liam and not saying anything. His stomach drops. Crap! What if Liam thinks he's rude? Or an idiot who can't put words together? Liam arches a brow and Zayn comes back to himself suddenly.

He nods, once, firmly. "Yes!" he says, probably a little too loudly. He can hear Louis muffle a giggle and a high-pitched shriek behind him and he aims a kick back at his seat. "Yes," he repeats. "I'd love to go with you."

Liam breaks out into a huge smile and Zayn feels a little dazed. "Great! So, I'll pick you up at six? Maybe we can go somewhere for dinner first?"

Zayn nods again, this time faintly. "Sure, sounds good."

"Awesome!" Liam says with a little fistpump. Zayn is filled with fondness at the gesture. "I'll text you with the details, okay?" After one final nod from Zayn, Liam spins on his heel and practically skips back to his friends. "He said yes!" Zayn can hear him say to them. The two of them shout and throw their hands into the air and engulf Liam in a hug. The whole show is quite attention-grabbing but Zayn can't help but feel fond of it anyway.

"You are totally smitten," Louis says, standing up and clapping his hand on Zayn's shoulder. "But congrats. You two are now going to be the hottest couple at the dance."

Zayn smiles. Yeah, they are.

(Liam makes his way back over sheepishly within a couple of minutes, holding out his phone and saying that he's realized he doesn't have Zayn's number. Zayn's nearly overcome with the urge to glomp onto him and never let go but he's able to refrain. Just barely.)

* * *

**2\. College frat-party AU**

"Okay, everyone! Gather around!" Louis calls out, clinking a spoon loudly against the half-empty bottle of beer in his other hand. When a good half of the room has clustered around him, he raises his beer and announces, "we're gonna play a game called Spin the Bottle!"

There are some scattered groans among the co-eds. Liam's one of them. Leave it to Louis to follow through with the most ridiculous drinking games ever created.

Louis ignores the protests and dramatically gulps down the rest of his beer, eliciting loud cheers. He pumps the bottle into the air triumphantly. "Now everyone sit down in a circle!" he demands and everyone grumbles but they do as he says because Louis is a force to be reckoned with. Also because the party had been going on for a couple of hours already and everyone's pretty plastered.

Once they're settled to Louis' satisfaction, he sets the bottle down in the middle and looks around with a severe expression. "You know the rules of the game, right? You spin the bottle and then you kiss the person it stops on. No ifs ands or buts." He gets a couple of eye rolls and tipsy nods in acknowledgement. "Good. May the odds be ever in your favor!" he chirps and Liam thinks he's probably not as drunk as he's pretending to be if he's able to quote a line from a movie and nail the accent.

Louis randomly selects someone to start the game - a redheaded girl that Liam vaguely recognizes from chem class - and Liam focuses on the faces across the circle from him. He realizes with a jolt that he's seated directly in front of Zayn Malik. _The_ Zayn Malik. 

The Zayn Malik who had nearly run him over with his skateboard their first day on campus.

The Zayn Malik who had stopped and helped Liam up and apologized over and over for nearly running him over.

The Zayn Malik who was so sweet and so hot he's been starring in every one of Liam's fantasies, X-rated or not, since that fateful day two months ago. He sees him around campus sometimes, cruising along on his skateboard, but they don't share any classes and Liam's pretty sure they're in completely different concentrations so he never knows how to start any conversations with him so he's never said a word to him. And now here he is, playing the same stupid drinking game that Liam's been roped into.

Zayn looks up then and makes eye contact with Liam. He holds it for a couple of seconds and Liam stops breathing. And then he smiles. Just a little bit - teeth biting down on his bottom lip, tongue just peeking out. Liam flushes and breaks the connection, looking over to watch the redhead give a blonde boy - Niall, Liam thinks it is, from Music Theory - a peck on the lips.

Niall takes the next spin and the game continues. Liam focuses on the spinning of the bottle instead of staring at Zayn and feels himself zoning out. The cheers and hoots around him fade out and he's only distantly aware of people moving in and out of the circle. The temperature in the room is so warm and the beer he had earlier is making everything nice and soft and fuzzy that he can feel himself drifting off.

He's suddenly jolted out of his daze when he hears Louis laughing and hollering his name.

"Wha -?" he asks, feeling like he's swimming out of a sea of molasses. He looks over at Louis, wondering why his friend's calling him. Louis just points frantically at the bottle. Liam looks over. Oh. It's pointed right at him. Who had spun it? He looks up and there's Zayn, scooting into the circle with a smile.

"Well, c'mon then," Zayn says. Liam blinks at him. It's all he can make his body do. He feels frozen, like he can't remember how to move his arms and legs anymore. "Not shy, are you?"

"Uh, what, no, no, um, not shy," Liam stutters. _But he still can't move._ He can't believe this is actually happening. He's going to get to kiss Zayn and not only is he drunk out of his mind but it's going to be for a game, in the middle of a group of drunk partygoers.

"Then whatcha waiting for?" Zayn asks. He quirks up an eyebrow and seriously, how does he manage to make everything look so damn sexy? Liam's brain short circuits.

The moment must drag on too long with Liam gaping like an idiot because the people in the circle start chanting is name. He flushes. Then the people sitting on either side of him grasp his arms and pull him up off his arse. At least that bit of momentum seems to kickstart his muscle coordination. He crawls over to the center of the circle, eyes locked on Zayn's sparkling ones the whole time. The room fades out around them until all he can see is Zayn's face.

Finally, when he's kneeling right in front of the other boy, Zayn says, "C'mon. Lay one on me."

Liam leans in, slowly, swaying a bit from the alcohol sloshing around in his brain. The space between them suddenly feels as wide as a chasm and Liam almost feels like if he tries to cross it, he's going to slip off the edge and tumble into a neverending freefall.

Zayn huffs out a small breath and leans forward to meet him before he can get more than halfway. The kiss is sloppy, both of them having to try a couple of times before actually landing one on the other's lips. When they finally manage it, Zayn's tongue flicks out quickly and licks Liam's lips. Liam reflexively opens his mouth and lets it in, sucking on it once, twice, and then chasing it back into Zayn's mouth. Then the other boy is pulling back, licking his lips and winking at Liam. Liam feels dazed again. That was certainly more than a peck.

"We'll have to do this again, yeah?" Zayn murmurs.

Liam nods.

Zayn goes back to his place in the circle and Liam's prompted to spin the bottle. He does and then sits back, fingers rubbing softly against his lips. He doesn't really care who the bottle lands on, though he doesn't particularly want to kiss anyone else right now and lose the taste of Zayn.

But then a light brown hand darts out and grabs the bottle, stopping it mid-spin. Liam looks up. It's Zayn holding the bottle so that it's pointed at him, and he's watching Liam with hooded eyes. Several people "awww" at them. Zayn crawls over to Liam and leans in again, only this time he doesn't stop until his mouth is right by Liam's ear.

"Whaddya say we leave this game and find somewhere a bit more private?" he whispers. Liam shivers at the feel of Zayn's breath ghosting over his skin. His heart starts pounding and his cheeks flush.

"Yeah, sounds good," Liam says a little shakily. They both scramble up amid catcalls and link hands. 

As Zayn's leading him out of the circle, Liam hears Louis call out "You're welcome!"

Liam doesn't know which one of them he's saying that to but he flips him off anyway. Silently, he concedes that maybe not all of Louis' ideas are stupid.

* * *

**3\. The Photographer and Model AU**

"Amazing, amazing, gorgeous, yet another beautiful shot," Liam mutters to himself. Then he stops at one particularly smoldering picture. "Goddamn, look at those bedroom eyes."

"Like what you see?" an amused voice asks from behind him.

Liam startles and whips around, nearly jostling his laptop off his lap. He steadies it just in time and then his hand spasms on it because there, leaning nonchalantly against the doorway, is Zayn Malik. He'd changed out of the clothes from the photoshoot and is wearing just a pair of skinny jeans and a thin sweater with some colorful abstract designs. His hair's slightly tousled, like he'd just woken up and run his hand through it -

 _No, stop that!_ Liam chides himself.

Zayn's brown eyes glitter with mischief like he knows exactly what Liam's thinking.

Liam flushes and wracks his brain for something to say that isn't too embarrassing. "So you're done changing already?" is what he cones up with. He wants to smack himself right after he blurts it out because way to state the obvious, Payno. Somewhere behind him, he can hear one of his assistants giggling as she packs up the cameras. _Fired. She is so fired,_ Liam thinks.

But Zayn just grins brightly and nods. "Yeah, I am." Then he ambles over - no, that isn't right, Liam thinks. He's pretty sure Zayn is _stalking_ towards him. He's sashaying over like he's walking down the runway at Paris Fashion week (and Liam only knows what that looks like because he wanted to research the model he was going to be working with, not because he's some kind of stalker fan who regularly spends hours on YouTube watching footage of Zayn Malik in runway shows and cover shoots.)

 _Get a hold of yourself, Liam!_ he tells himself sternly because Zayn actually comes right up to him and rests a hand on Liam's shoulder and then circles around Liam to the chair on his other side, letting his fingers trail along the upper part of his back. And Liam has never thought of his back as being an erogenous zone but apparently, it is. At least when Zayn Malik is touching it. Liam is also, he's despairing to note, turning in his seat to follow Zayn's progress, like the other man is the sun and Liam is a planet in his orbit. _I need to stop this. I barely know the guy!_

But it's no use. Liam's known he was a goner since the beginning of the shoot, when he had made a reference to Loki (the Marvel character, not the Norse god or his dog) and startled a laugh out of Zayn. He'd been nervous about this shoot since Harry had contacted him a month ago, begging him to do the photoshoot for his new line. But Zayn's turned out to be so _normal_. And not only that, but he laughs at Liam's lame jokes and Liam's pretty sure it's genuine laughter and not humoring-the-photographer laughter.

Zayn settles into the chair gracefully, stretching out his long legs wrapped in those sinfully tight jeans and Liam has to forcibly refocus his attention on his laptop so he doesn't come across as creepy. Or at least, not any more creepy than he's already been. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Zayn lean in towards him and smirk. "So," Zayn says, "when are ya gonna kiss me?"

 _"What?!"_ Liam splutters. His cheeks flush under the other man's scrutiny.

Zayn arches an eyebrow at him. "Were we or were we not flirting through the past three hours?"

"I - what?" Liam splutters again because he's going for a record of crashing and burning with a gorgeous guy, apparently.

Zayn smiles but seems to ease up on him. He shifts his attention to the laptop on Liam's lap and Liam feels like he can breathe again. He takes a moment to suck in a couple of deep breaths, counting to three in his head and imagining that he can feel his heartrate slowing back down and the blood fading from his cheeks. Just as he's gotten himself back under control, Zayn asks curiously, "So what are you working on?"

Liam makes himself focus on answering the question rather than on who's asking the question and reminds himself that he's a seasoned photographer and is very good at what he does, even if couture photoshoots isn't usually one of those things that he does. "I'm just reviewing the shots, seeing which ones we might want to use."

Zayn peers over at him with one brow raised in a silent question.

Liam hazards a guess at what he's asking and says, "Any of them. You have an incredible talent at making the clothes look good and the camera loves you."

At this, Zayn smirks at him. "I look good without the clothes, too."

Liam swallows. "I'll bet."

"But I'm happy to hear that all that twirling and leaping paid off."

"Oh, uh, sorry about that. I guess you don't usually get asked to do that, huh?"

Zayn shakes his head. "I've been asked to get into a lot of strange poses but athletics isn't usually part of the package."

Liam flushes again, this time from embarrassment. "Yeah, well, I'm used to my subjects moving around a lot."

"Oh?"

"I'm a sports photographer, usually," Liam explains. "I take pictures at sporting events, games, you know. And athletic wear, it's about the movement and the comfort so I usually have them moving around quite a bit even in a photoshoot."

"Oh." Zayn's brow furrows. "So how did you end up doing this?" He twirls his hand at the set being taken down behind them by Liam's assistant.

"Harry's a friend of mine. He said he wanted his clothes to look lively. I told him I had no idea how to do a couture photoshoot but well -" Liam shrugs "- when Harry wants something, he's got a way of getting it."

Zayn shrugs a bit noncommittally and Liam guesses that he doesn't know Harry and his puppy dog eyes very well. "The pictures look good to me," he says.

"Yeah?" Liam eyes them critically. He isn't sure if they're what Harry's looking for but at least the clothes do look like they're moving - he's gotten shots of coats flaring out behind Zayn as if he was Neo in the Matrix, and boots looking like they're about to kick right through the computer screen and hit the viewer.

"Do you...um, Niall said that you don't do any...photoshopping?" Zayn asks, looking hesitant.

Liam's surprised at the question. "No. Why do you ask? Do you want me to...?"

"No, God no!" Zayn nearly shouts and then grimaces. "I mean, uh, no. I'd prefer for the shots not to be edited but sometimes photographers insist and then Niall has to get into a big row with them and...well, it used to be a bigger deal because I needed the work and couldn't risk being labeled as difficult but now I can make a few stipulations but some people still think they can get away with the photoshopping and then Niall has to go after them and he hates confrontation."

Liam can't help feeling a little endeared at how Zayn rushes out the explanation as if he's worried that Liam would cut him off or think that he's a prima donna. He's a little confused though. "What on earth would they photoshop about you? You don't look like you've got an extra ounce of fat anywhere."

With a wry twist of his lips, Zayn holds up a hand, turning it so that Liam can see the back of it. He still doesn't get it though. It's not as if Zayn has tattoos there that need to be covered up. It's just a smooth, unblemished light brown ending in long tapered fingers with well-manicured nails. He looks back up at Zayn.

"My skin color," Zayn says softly. "Some people think I look a little too..ethnic," he finishes bitterly.

Liam gapes, appalled. "Too _ethnic_? But then why would they have picked you if they wanted someone white?"

"Apparently, there's an optimal skin tone to look exotically desirable without being exotically unrelateable. Whatever that means."

"Oh, wow. That's shitty."

Zayn shrugs again. "There's a lot of nastiness in this business."

"True," Liam says with a sigh. He's glad he's not really in the high-end fashion world. "Well, I can promise you I won't do that. And Harry's not that kind of designer so you won't have to worry about him."

Zayn grins. "That's what Niall had said."

"Niall's your agent?"

"Agent, best friend, sometimes couch-crasher, guy who drags me out to tennis matches and footie matches and then spends the whole game explaining what's going on and why everyone's screaming."

"Ah, so he does it all."

"Yeah. Oh! He's also a huge fan of yours."

"Really?" Liam's surprised. It's pretty rare that photographers have fans. Professional respect, sure, but fans? This is probably Liam's first.

Zayn nods and his eyes light up. "Hey, maybe you can sign an autograph for him?"

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to." Liam looks around but can't see any scraps of paper or pens; the hazards of digitizing his work. He purses his lips and thinks about his options. When he spots the portable printer he carries with him, he gets an idea. "How about I print out one of your shots and sign it for him? I'll be sending the whole set to both of you later anyway, but I can sign one for you to take back now."

"Hmmm," Zayn hums. Then he shakes his head. "I don't know, seems a bit weird to have a picture of me on his wall with your signature on it. How about a selfie?"

"Of me?" Liam asks, taken aback. He's rarely the subject of his own shots. At least, not ones that are given to other people. "Wouldn't it be even weirder for him to have a picture of me on his wall? I'm not famous. And he doesn't even know me."

"Okay, how about a selfie of the two of us? He knows me and he likes your work so that would be less creepy, right?"

"I guess...." Liam says. He really isn't sure, actually, but Zayn looks so earnest about it and really, Liam doesn't know Niall. Who's he to say what the other man might find weird or not? He shrugs. "Okay." He digs around in his bag for the digital camera he brings with him for quick test shots of scenes and layout. When he finds it, he sets it up for a selfie shot and flips it around. Zayn leans in automatically towards him when he holds out the camera with the lens directed at the two of them. "Ready?" he asks. "There's a three-second timer."

"Yeah, c'mon, let's do it," Zayn murmurs.

Liam presses the button and hears the beeping of the timer counting down. Right before the camera takes the picture, Zayn turns his head and plants a kiss on his cheek. The shutter clicks and Liam can't help laughing. "What was that?"

"What? I just thought I'd make it interesting," Zayn says, blinking those long lashes at him faux-innocently.

"Of course," Liam says but he can't stop smiling. "You probably came out blurred because you moved."

Zayn shrugs. "We'll just have to do it again, then."

But when Liam checks the picture, it's perfect. He's grinning widely, looking a little abashed and Zayn's in profile - cheekbones standing out, skin around his eye crinkled in laugh lines, and lips pursed to kiss Liam's cheek.

"You really do have some kind of magic with the camera," Liam says and Zayn just laughs.

He uploads the picture to his computer, crops out most of the background and clicks over to the filters. "What do you think?" he asks Zayn, hovering over the black and white option. "Something classic?" He moves over to the sepia option. "Something old?" He selects the tabs with all the artistic brushes. "Something fun?" 

Zayn frowns thoughtfully and asks "May I?" while pointing at Liam's mousepad. Liam nods, shifting the computer so that Zayn can reach it easier. He doesn't particularly care himself but Zayn seems quite invested. He clicks through nearly all the option, and goes back to the original after every one. He mutters and squints at the screen and tilts his head to look at the picture in different angles, sometimes gently knocking into Liam's shoulder because of how close they're sitting.

Liam decides that he loves watching Zayn deliberate over the choices. He also surreptitiously breathes in Zayn's spicy cologne (he's not surreptitious enough; his assistant spies him doing so and stops in her track, widening her eyes and mouthing 'ASK HIM OUT'. Liam widens his own eyes in panic and tries to wave her off before Zayn notices). 

"Okay, there," Zayn says with satisfaction. 

Liam looks over and Zayn's just adjusted the contrast and saturation of the original picture so that the colors are brighter. "It looks good," Liam says. "You do this a lot?"

"I take a lot of selfies," Zayn says. "Mostly in black and white." He quirks an eyebrow a Liam and seems to want him to pick up that lead so Liam obliges.

"So why color now?"

"Because if I can't see you in person, I want to see you in color," Zayn says with a cheeky grin. 

"Oh my god," Liam says and Zayn laughs again. "Are you like this with all the photographers?"

"Nah, just the ones I like." 

Liam prints the picture and goes to collect it from the printer. While he's hunched over a table signing it, Zayn comes over and leans back against the table and asks, "So, are you the wining and dining type?"

Liam glances up at him and flushes at his intense stare. "Uh, I'm mostly the wining and dining and sleepy cuddles, long walks through the park, movie watching, comic book reading, hoping for forever type."

Zayn grins widely. "That's good. So'm I."

Liam's heart starts pounding. He licks his lips nervously. "So, uh, you wanna start with the wining and dining on Friday night?"

"Yeah, let's do. Pick me up at seven?"

When Liam nods, Zayn takes the pen from him and scribbles his address on his hand. Then he takes the picture that Liam's just signed, winks at him, and saunters away.

"Great," Liam says faintly. What did he just get himself into?

* * *

**4\. James Bond AU**

Zayn knows as soon as 007's set foot in Q branch because his minions start buzzing like a hive of gossiping bees. He knows what they're doing - making bets on whether he's going to kill 007 or kiss him - but he refuses to give any outward appearance that he's at all interested. He tracks the sound of a familiar heavy tread until they come to a stop at his door. He can just see the tips of a pair of black Crockett and Jones shoes enter his field of vision. He makes sure to make the owner of those shoes wait thirty seconds while he stares intently at his monitor. He's not actually doing anything anymore, just staring unseeingly at lines and lines of code while waiting just the right amount of time so that the agent and all the minions in the outer room start fidgeting.

Finally, he snaps out a terse "Enter" and hits a few keys on his computer to set the room to "private" mode. As soon as 007 walks in, the door slides shut behind him and the glass darkens to protect them from any prying eyes. Only then does he allow himself to look up and drink in the sight of Liam Payne, light brown hair disheveled, suit rumpled, bruises prominently displayed on his cheek and surrounding his right eye which is nearly swollen shut, and left arm held stiffly against his side.

"Liam," he breathes. "Thank Allah."

The other man rounds his table and comes to a stop in front of him, smiling gruffly and then wincing when it pulls at his bruised cheek.

Zayn moves forward, gingerly patting him on his shoulders, unsure of where he could touch that wouldn't aggravate the other's injuries but knowing that he can't not touch him after this last harrowing mission where Zayn had thought, _this is it, Liam's not gonna be able pull off another miracle_.

But Liam reaches out with his right arm and wraps it around Zayn's waist, pulling him in tight against his toned body. He winces a little - Zayn can feel his body stiffening in reaction to the pain of Zayn jostling his injuries - but he doesn't let up. He buries his face in the crook of Zayn's neck, breathing in deeply. "I'm sorry," he murmurs.

Zayn's eyes start watering and he buries his face in Liam's shoulder, hands reaching up to curl his fingers in soft strands of hair he didn't think he was ever going to feel again. "You're an idiot," he says, voice shaky.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Why do you always have to run _towards_ the burning building?" he asks, but he knows. He'd heard the screams through Liam's earpiece last night, the sounds of young voices crying hysterically until communications had gotten disrupted by all the smoke. "Did you get them all?"

"Yeah, dropped them off at an orphanage on my way to the extraction point."

Zayn nods. _Don't do that ever again,_ he wants to demand but he knows he can't, knows that isn't something Liam can promise. "Did you at least bring back some of my tech?" he says instead.

Liam chuckles. "Yeah, I did manage to do that this time. Well, the Walther, anyway," he says, shifting Zayn enough so he can get to his holster. Seconds later, Zayn hears something being gently set down on his table; he presumes it's the palm-print activated gun he'd outfitted Liam with two weeks ago but he'll check it later. He doesn't feel quite ready to let go of the other man just yet. "I had to use the watch, though."

"And?" Zayn prompts.

"It worked beautifully. Perfect timing, big explosion."

"Well, I told you it would."

"No, you just said it would be loud. Did you really have to use an Omega watch, though? It's such a shame to destroy something of such quality."

"It's the only brand you wear. Anything else would have been suspicious."

"True enough, I suppose."

"Anyway, I've modified all of your watches while you were gone."

Liam rears back. "You what?!" His gaze is a mix of lust and consternation.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't love the idea. Now give us a kiss."

Liam starts to lean in automatically and then halts. "Wait, I'm filthy. I came straight here from a thirty hour flight."

Zayn shakes his head. "I don't care. C'mon, give me an 'I'm back and I'm alive and thank you for your tech because they saved my arse again' kiss. C'mon."

"Well," Liam smirks, "if you -"

Zayn rolls his eyes and cuts Liam off with a kiss of his own. It turns out to be more of an 'I'm so unbelievably happy you're alive I don't have the words to adequately say it just please don't ever die on me' kiss but he figures that's okay and Liam doesn't seem to mind.

When they pull back, Zayn remembers about Liam's injuries and curses. "Medical, now."

"What? I just got back!" Liam protests.

"Exactly. Go."

Liam pouts at him.

Zayn sighs.

Liam's pout intensifies.

"Oh, alright. I don't trust you to actually stay there anyway. Go sit on the bed," he says, directing Liam to a cleverly hidden twin-sized bed at the back of his office, behind a rack of shelves carrying his current projects. As Liam goes and gets settled, he calls over to Medical and requests the on-call physician to come to his office for Liam's check-up.

"You mean Payne's still alive? I thought you'd have killed him by now," Dr. Jones says in mock surprise.

"No, not yet. I'm saving that for the day he runs into a burning building without any justifiable excuse," Zayn says, narrowing his eyes at Liam. Liam holds his hands up in a 'who, me?' gesture and Zayn scowls at him. "Please do hurry, I don't know how long I'll be able to keep him here. You know how he hates needles."

Dr. Jones chuckles. "You got it, Q. I'm on my way now," she says and hangs up.

Liam sighs. "Great, bloodwork."

"Maybe some shots too. I'm sure there are some vaccines you need updated," Zayn adds.

"Please don't give her any ideas. I think the woman's part vampire."

Zayn shakes his head with a small smile. He turns back to his computer, feeling for the first time in days like he can concentrate on his work again now that he knows Liam's safe.

"Think we can go home soon? Or are you working on something?" Liam asks hopefully. He sounds like he's about to drift off and Zayn muses that he's probably only got an hour at most before Liam passes out from the adrenaline crash. The bed in his office isn't bad - he uses it quite often when Liam's away and Liam uses it when Zayn's wrapped up in a project that he doesn't want to set aside for something as pedestrian as sleep so he had splurged on a good mattress - but it isn't anything compared to their king-sized bed at home. He takes a quick inventory of the things he and his staff are working on and the missions they're monitoring and decides they can do without him for at least a day.

"Yeah, we'll go home after Dr. Jones clears you. We'll have to get take-away, though, there's no food left in the fridge."

"That's fine," Liam says. "I just really want a soak and a cuddle in bed."

"Yeah, that I can give you."

"Oh, hey, so what about that exploding pen?"

Zayn sighs gustily. Liam asks this question, on average, about once a month. "There is _no_ exploding pen!"

Liam just giggles.

Zayn makes sure to click out of the window where there may or may not be schematics for a pen that can set off an explosion.

* * *

**5\. Romeo and Juliet AU**

"C'mon and kiss me."

"No, are you kidding?" Liam hisses. "If your father walks in, he'll kill me!"

"Nah, he wouldn't do that," Zayn dismisses. "Abba loves me. He just wants me to be happy."

"Maybe so, but I don't think he'd approve of you dating a copper." Liam would never say it where his colleagues could hear him but he rather respects the older man. He treats his people well, always puts his family first, and keeps his children completely shielded from the business until they're old enough to make their own decisions about it. And as far as the NCA's been able to determine, he's likely involved in racketeering, gambling, and monopolizing the import/export trade from Pakistan but he's never killed anyone directly or indirectly. He seems, in fact, determined to run a peaceful empire and he reinvests a lot of his money into the community. But that doesn't do much to improve relations between him and the police force.

Zayn sighs but shifts around in the bed and clicks on the light, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow. Liam takes a moment to look around at the tastefully decorated room - all burgundy and beige with burnished gold accents, expensive art on the walls alternating with Zayn's own sculptures on pedestals.

"Your room's like a mini museum," Liam says.

"So you've said before," Zayn says, sounding amused.

"It's still true." Liam turns back towards Zayn and takes a second to drink in his classically beautiful features - sparkling brown eyes that look amber when they catch the light, sharp cheekbones, long lashes, and a mouth that was to die for, Liam's not gonna lie. Zayn's in just a set of silk pajamas (which Liam swears he wears just to tempt him) while Liam's still in his uniform, having removed only his shoes and holster before climbing into bed just a few minutes ago. He sighs regretfully. "I should get going. There's only so long Harry can pretend to fiddle with the instrument panel making like he's fixing it before he actually does something that really breaks it and the department can't afford to replace more equipment."

"It is _criminal_ just how underfunded you are," Zayn quips.

"Haha," Liam says dryly, though he can't help smiling.

"Harry's a good partner," Zayn muses. "I'll have to remember to get him something for Christmas."

"Yeah, he's a good guy. Says he's a romantic sap and he loves tragic romances."

"What?!" Zayn scowls, looking affronted. "We are _not_ a tragic romance. That fucker. He's just getting a lump of coal for Christmas."

"I mean, we can't get much more Romeo and Juliet, can we? You, the son of the Syndicate boss, being groomed to be his successor. Me, the son of the NCA officer who's spent nearly his whole career trying to arrest the Syndicate boss, being expected to follow his footsteps and take up the mantle when he retires from the force. And then we both fell in love when I was assigned to do surveillance on you but we can't tell anyone we're together."

"First of all," Zayn says with a stern finger wag, "we are _not_ Romeo and Juliet. Neither of us are going to do something so stupid as die. _We_ are going to have a happy ending. Second, I'm not being groomed to be my father's successor. But that's not common knowledge, so don't tell anyone, okay?"

Liam groans and flops back on the bed. "Why do you keep _giving_ me intel? How are we gonna have a happy ending when my own colleagues are gonna throw me in jail and sentence me for aiding and abetting?"

Zayn curls up against Liam's side and rests his head on Liam's chest; Liam's arm almost automatically wraps around the other man. "There's nothing to aide and abet. I promise. I'm not involved in the business at all."

"I know," Liam says. "I believe you."

Zayn nods and they fall silent for a few moments, savoring their limited time together. "We should run away," Zayn says finally. It isn't a new proposition but every time he brings it up, Liam's closer and closer to agreeing; he's pretty sure Zayn knows that and is just gradually wearing him down.

"Maybe," Liam allows this time. "Where do you want to go?"

"Greece," Zayn says immediately. "I've always wanted to study their sculptures."

"I'm not sure that's far enough, babe."

"My father's not gonna chase us down, Liam."

"Oh god, did you already tell him about us?"

Zayn hesitates and Liam groans again. "I'm very close with my family, Liam. You know that. I can't lie to them."

"He's gonna kill me!"

"No, he's not. He actually invited you over for dinner. This Saturday." It's not a question because one doesn't turn down an invitation from Yaser Malik to dinner. Especially not if one wants to continue seeing his son. Liam resigns himself to a politely-conducted interrogation over a five-course dinner with expensive silverware that Liam can't hope to know how to use.

"I'm gonna need a suit. Like, a real one."

Zayn nods against him, runs a soothing hand up and down his side. "I'll take you to Saville Row after your shift ends on Thursday."

Liam sighs. "My dad's gonna kill me. We should run away."

Zayn chuckles. "We can go to Fiji after we stop at Greece. Get a house by the water, live off the grid."

"Oh, yeah, that sounds nice."

"I can make vases and bowls and sell them in a market. You can do some fishing, maybe."

Liam presses his lips to Zayn's hair. "Maybe."

"If we stay here, we'll never be able to really be together. There's eyes on me all the time. The police aren't the only ones watching me," Zayn reminds him.

Liam's arm tightens around Zayn but he knows it's true. Yaser's carved out a nice little niche for himself and he doesn't interfere with anyone else's business but he's still got enemies. And those enemies are constantly seeking out weak points, waiting for a lapse in security to strike. Liam's lost many a night's sleep worrying over the safety of Zayn and his family even as he's struggled with having to collect potentially incriminating evidence against them (though he doesn't think he and Harry have actually collected anything of use because Zayn's telling the truth and he's largely away from any business dealings; he spends most of his days visiting art galleries or in his private studio). 

"Alright. Let's see if we can put something together."

"Yeah?" Zayn says, lifting his head to stare up at Liam in delight.

"Yeah," Liam says with a smile. He'd do anything for Zayn to stay happy like that, really, though a part of him worries that by taking Zayn away from the safety of his family and their cadre of security, he's just making him more of a target. But he resolves to make sure no harm comes to Zayn, even if it means they have to live in a remote forest somewhere.

"You're the best, Liam," Zayn says with a crinkly-eyed smile. "Now come on and give me a real kiss. That one earlier was barely anything at all."

"What? That was totally -" Liam protests, biting back a smirk.

"You kissed my _hair_."

"I love your hair!"

"You love me too, though," Zayn says simply.

"You know I do."

"Then come and kiss me."

Liam grins in response and puckers his lips. 

Zayn rolls his eyes but crawls up Liam's body and kisses him anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> The NCA is the National Crime Agency which is the law enforcement agency in the UK for organized crime. Per my research, anyway. Please let me know if I've got it wrong. Or if I got anything else wrong (grammar, British lingo, any technical stuff).
> 
> If you liked it, please consider [reblogging](http://likealeafonthewind.tumblr.com/post/134206851393/cmon-and-kiss-me-a-5x-fic-anecdotalist-one). I'm on [tumblr](http://likealeafonthewind.tumblr.com) and [LJ](http://todriftornot.livejournal.com) if anyone wants to come chat! <3


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